


KID

by Laeana



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Bruises, Childhood Trauma, Conflict Resolution, Declarations Of Love, Denial, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Freedom, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, Help, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jos Verstappen A+ Parenting, M/M, Recognition, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana
Summary: It all just starts with a song in which Max seems to recognize himself. Somehow, in some way. He doesn't really know, he doesn't understand the lyrics but ...It's the beginning of a journey. His journey.It's time to stop being afraid, apparently. Time for him to be break free.
Relationships: Alexander Albon & Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly & Max Verstappen
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	KID

“You remind me of a song of Eddy de Pretto.”

That’s what says Pierre one day, when they are side to side, sitting on the grass, close from the paddock.

“Who is that ? A French singer ?”

Max feels incredibly lost. He’s sure he never heard about this guy, whoever he is. The french smiles a bit.

“I know we don’t talk about that but I’m sure it’ll be good for you to hear it.”

Some noises in the background interrupt the conversation. Pierre turns around, sees Daniil waving at him, showing clearly he should go back inside.

“Listen to this : Kid by Eddy de Pretto.”

Then the older man leaves and somehow he thinks he will forget about it soon. He just lays in the grass and closes his eyes, waiting for the moment he’ll be called.

But it doesn’t leave his mind. On the contrary, it seems more present in his thoughts than before. And he is disturbed by it, even when he’s in the arms of his boyfriend. Of Daniel.

“Do you know Eddy de Pretto ?”

Daniel gives him a strange glare, a surprised one.

“Nope. At all. Who’s that ?”

“A French singer”, he mumbles. “Pierre told me to listen to one of his songs.”

“And you did it ?”

“No.”

“So why’re asking this ?”

“I don’t know. But Pierre has always been so respectful about other’s private life and for once it seems like we talked a bit about it. And it just can’t leave my head.”

“Then you know what you have to do ?”

“What ?”

“Listen to this song.”

“You don’t help, Daniel.”

“I never mean to.”

The older is clearly mocking him and he sighs, getting out of his arms, pretty much disappointed. He doesn’t have time to listen it.

* * *

**Tu seras viril mon Kid,**

**Je ne veux voir aucune larme glisser sur cette gueule héroïque,**

**Et ce corps tout sculpté pour atteindre des sommets fantastiques,**

**Que seule une rêverie pourrait surpasser,**

a/n : _repetition of the first sentence in every verse, giving the impression of a father talking harshly to his son. archetype of the « real » man with a strong and muscled body, who doesn’t cry._

* * *

The first time he hears the song, he doesn’t have too much time to give to it. The singer has a grave voice, almost gravelly, but still pleasant. Something in his voice, a conviction, a bit of despair. Authority.

He doesn’t even understand what he says, everything is in French, Pierre didn’t lie about it !, but he recognizes himself through the emotions he can feel.

And that’s really, really, a strange thing to say. He feels it like a moment of distraction. Because he shouldn’t be able to recognize himself into such a song. 

He thinks about translating it; he’s curious about what deepest meaning it carries inside. The problem is that he still doesn’t have time to do it.

He misses a lot of time lately.

Like the devil himself, his father is waiting right behind the door. Hastening to come inside and to talk to him. He turns off the song, not even able to hear the end of it, with eagerness. As if scared of being discovered. 

It’s nothing particularly wrong or bad - once again he doesn’t understand this song goddamnit - but it just makes him feel guilty for no reasons.

Maybe he should ask Pierre for the translation.

* * *

**Tu seras viril mon Kid,**

**Je ne veux voir aucune once féminine,**

**Ni des airs, ni des gestes qui veulent dire,**

**Et Dieu sait, si ce sont tout de même les pires à venir,**

**Te castrer pour quelques vocalises**

a/n: _a father who is afraid of his son showing any kind of « female gestures », which could be a sign of him being gay, something that’s for him so terrible he can’t even pronounce the word._

* * *

And the second time Max tries to listen to it, he still doesn’t get to the end. It’s like there is always something to stop him from doing it. Seriously.

He has his headphones on. He closes his eyes, and the same emotions hit him with the same intensity than before - it’s really disturbing. The words are familiar and at the same time foreign. 

He already heard french. That’s easy, there is french everywhere. Pierre is french, Charles speaks french. He even had some lessons of french in the past. But he never, ever, felt that way. 

Someone taps him on his right shoulder and he gets half of his headphones off, just to see Alex standing there, with a smile on his lips.

“We are going to celebrate the end of the race with some other drivers, you come ?”

“Oh … I just need to settle something, I’ll join you there. Can you give me the address ?”

“Sure.”

The thai then leaves quickly. He passes a hand in his hair, noticing suddenly that he went further in the song than he ever has been. But he didn’t pay attention to what he heard so he guesses he will have to listen to it again. Damn.

He gets rid of his headphones. Shuts off the music. He has been on the podium earlier. Second. But he doesn’t know if it will be enough to convince his father. He’s obligated to face him once again, even if he doesn’t want to. He has to face his disappointment.

He’s supposed to be a strong man and here he was, trembling like a child. The Lion. He could laugh of himself clearly.

* * *

**Tu seras viril mon Kid,**

**Loin de toi ces finesses tactiques,**

**Toutes ces femmes origines qui féminisent vos guises,**

**Sous prétexte d'être le messie fidèle de ce cher modèle archaïque,**

a/n : _acuteness is used as something accurate for women, that are more « fragile » but more foxy. the father says he doesn’t want his son to be like that, he wants him to represent ancient customs, to be their picture._

* * *

He can feel the anger of his father. The words are harsh, he tries not to care. It’s always the same, always and always and always. Same reproaches, same grudge. Highest expectations, nobody can be harder on him than his dad.

Being first, because any other place doesn’t count. Only the highest step on the podium can prove your value. 

Something like that. He only jumps a bit when a fist crashes in the wall, too close from his cheek. Violence. He forgot that could exist. He still has scars though. It’s like his mind prefers to forget what happened in his childhood.

“You don’t listen, don’t you. You think you’re better than me ? You think now you can ignore me as you want ? But I made you. I made you. Without me you’re nothing.”

And he hopes, he hopes somehow he’s different from him. He hopes they are nothing alike because he doesn’t want to be like him. 

Two hands claps around his neck and he slowly suffocates. He tries to thrash, to escape from his grip.

But he is caught into those eyes that are facing him. He knows it too well. Two icy blue eyes. And suddenly he isn’t Max Verstappen anymore. He’s just Max. A kid, terrified by his father.

A father he used to on a way admire, a father that accompanied him too long, in his life. Someone he doesn’t know how to dissociate himself from.

“Max ?”

Christian voice resonates in the corridor.

The grip loosen and Jos immediately steps back before running away, he slides along the wall, coughing. 

A freaking kid. He’s a freaking kid.

* * *

**Tu seras viril mon Kid,**

**Tu tiendras, dans tes mains, l'héritage iconique d'Apollon,**

**Et comme tous les garçons, tu courras de ballons en champion,**

**Et deviendras mon petit héro historique**

a/n : _the father wants his son to be like Apollo, a model of masculinity, superiority. He wants him to be a champion, to mark history, who is made more of Great Men than Great Women._

* * *

Max enters the club. He adjusts his shirt collar higher. Marks on his pale skin are purple. A contrast. Alex welcomes him with a pat on his back. He tries to smile, he tries to calm down. 

He is tense. He just can’t relax. It’s not possible when such a scene happened some time ago. Daniel wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“Yo, Maxy, how’re doing ?”

“Dan … i’m fine.”

His boyfriend frowns. Maybe he wasn’t convincing enough. He doesn’t trust himself to be honest.

“Is anything wrong ? You know you can tell me everything, love ?”

He is not at ease under this piercing gaze. The hand of the aussie passes on his neck, brushing his pullover’s collar.

“Is this new ? You don’t often wear shirts which goes that high.”

Daniel is suspicious. Max understands it pretty quickly and slaps his hand before his partner got the idea of checking what’s under his top. 

“I don’t have the right of wearing what I want ?”

“What ? No, that’s- … that’s not what I meant.”

He raises his eyebrows and goes to sit next to Alex, leaving the older man confused. He thinks the moment will be forgotten. It’s nothing more than a bit of worrying. 

He doesn’t understand that his mate may misunderstand the situation. Think about something else than the fact it’s his father who made him wear a collar to hide his bruises. 

He slips in the mood and soon he laughs with everyone, as if nothing happened.

* * *

**Virilité abusive, virilité abusive**

**Tu seras viril mon Kid,**

**Je veux voir ton teint pâle se noircir de bagarres et forger ton mental,**

**Pour qu’aucune de ces dames te dirige vers de contrées roses,**

**Néfastes, pour de glorieux Gaillards,**

a/n : _still in clichés. The father wants his son to fight, to be strong and more than everything he wants him to stay on that path, never being disturbed by women that can destroy his solid reputation._

* * *

Doing his coming-out was never an option. To the world, to his father. His sister already knew it somehow. His mother too. And their reactions were all he could hope. Kind, supportive.

He never had to explain it to Daniel because he understood it without a single word. A tacit agreement. But lately, it seems like the aussie is a bit on edge, especially when it comes about this topic.

When his bruises disappear, he starts to wear low collar once again. He feels better this way but he always got the feeling that … his boyfriend keeps watching him, from afar. Looking for something.

He’s uneasy under this persistent gaze.

The aussie presses him more and the subject of coming out comes back more often. He thinks his father would be able to kill him if he does it.

However, he’s not longer a child, he’s over the age of legal majority, he can widely detach himself from any parental authority. His fear maintains him settled in the past. He can’t break those bounds so easily, he wish he could. 

The only thing he has for himself, what he would like to say he has for himself, it’s his relationship with Daniel. Something that makes him feel normal. He loves him more than he should. He loves him more than he ever loved anybody. 

He knows Daniel loves him too so he doesn’t really understand. 

“I feel like you’re ashamed of me.”

“What ? Not at all !”

Surprised that it may be seen that way. He always thought his intentions were clear enough. 

“But the truth is you always back up when we’re in public and … fuck I know this whole damn thing about our career but when we’re with our friends, or even when it’s our families, we shouldn’t hide it. Or half hide it, I don’t know how you perceive it.”

“But it wasn’t … I wasn’t …”

Confusion. A flash in Daniel’s eyes. In his beautiful, magnificent brown. Like a veil. Something’s off. He still can’t understand what’s happening. This is not real after all. This can’t be real.

He advances but his boyfriend immediately takes one step backward. He shivers violently, retracting the hand he just extended so he could grab his aussie’s arm. Not even authorized to touch him. Max never craved more for touch than right now. He lowers his gaze.

“I need to take a break. Or else I know how it’s all gonna end. We’re gonna say things we don’t wanna. So I’m gonna go.”

Not even a goodbye and his mate, is he even his mate, his boyfriend, his lover after what just happened?, leaves the room in a hurry.

He sits carefully, with the feeling of being able to break in thousand of pieces at any moment. Gosh. Gosh he can’t bear this. He can’t bear this and he feels really guilty because what if he chained Daniel with words and acts he thought were nothing but that may be a big deal deep down? 

He’s so scared. He don’t know if he can even keep himself together if the older one leaves him. He loves him too much. And he’s so scared of that. 

He just grabs his headphones and puts it on. A bit of a smile taints his lips when he hears the first notes of the song. 

He still can keep his mind busy by starting to hear this song till the end for once.

* * *

**Tu seras viril mon Kid,**

**Tu hisseras ta puissance masculine,**

**Pour contrer cette essence sensible que ta mère,**

**Nous balance en famille, elle fatigue ton invulnérable Achille,**

a/n : _Achille is not totally invulnerable, since he got one weakness; his heel. his weakness is associated with his mother, a woman, since it’s her « fault » if he has it. the speech is similar to the tale, which means this point of view here is not exactly right nor certain._

* * *

Max doesn’t know how it happens but here they are. Pierre and Alex in his apartment. This feels terribly awkward but, for some reason he doesn’t know, his smile doesn’t seem to leave his lips. 

He felt certainly depressed after his fight with Daniel, even if optimistic since his aussie is not the type of person to just give up and flee from an unsolved conflict. He buried himself in his room, while playing video games and occasionally eating. From time to time. 

Going for a run, very soon or very late. To do everything to avoid a potential meeting with his boyfriend. He doesn’t want to see him right now. He feels too conflicted, too sad.

(the truth is, above all, he just wants to have him back to cuddle in his arms)

And, somehow, Alex et Pierre managed to know his situation and finally invited themselves in his apartment. 

“We’re here …”

“To watch a movie.” Pierre ends the sentence of Alex and they both exchange a genuinely look. 

He already feels exhausted. Honestly. It seems like they have a plan. Maybe forcing him to watch strange romance movies is part of it. 

“And what about your relationships, Alex?” asks the french while eating some popcorn they brought. 

“Perfect. Or something like that. And I heard things about you and Charles ?”

“Not much, for now. I’m trying to, well, catch his attention ? Don’t really know where I’m going though.”

His two friends sigh softly before turning towards him and, suddenly, he feels bad. Their glances seem truly … evil. He winces. The thai smiles.

“Have you seen what we were doing, Max ?”

Uneasy, he moves a bit in his seat.

“Uhm … talking ?”

“Exactly. We are talking about our f e e l i n g s.”

“Which is the reason of our venue here,” Pierre continues without any hesitation. “We want to talk about feelings.”

He can’t help it. He just throws a pillow at them and then processes to bury his face in his hands.

“Ughhhh I hate you. Both of you.”

“You’ll thank us later. Plus, we’re here for free. You should really be grateful.”

Alex grins and Pierre just shakes his head from left to right before landing a hand on his arm. Smiling once again. Kindly this time.

“You are not obligated to talk about it. We just thought it could help you.”

“I …”

He sighs heavily.

“Okay.”

He can’t help it. He never asked for help and, however, here they are. His saviours somehow. Some real friends. People that do care about him. He feels moved.

“Lately I felt Daniel becoming distant, more and more. He brought in the subject of coming out and I- I was so scared I always thought we were perfectly understanding each other but last time he just- … I felt like he just gave up.”

A short breathing. He doesn’t even take any air. Or at least that’s his impression.

“He just … went away after that. He said it was for the best, that we needed a break but gosh … it hurts. Even now. I just wanted to …”

He feels embarrassed but when he looks up, neither of his comrades mock him. They both look encouraging, kind. They both look supportive and, honestly, he missed that. Guess he can’t always bear loneliness that long.

“I’m scared he would not come back.”

“Don’t say that, Max” answers softly Alex while putting a hand on his “He loves you from the bottom of his heart. Everyone can see that. It’s impossible that he leaves you.”

“When did he start acting … that persistent ?”

Pierre’s question bursts out in the silence that settles just after the thai’s speech. Max thinks a bit but it’s easy to see where.

“After my podium, second place.”

The french nods and briefly approaches to slide a hand on his neck. The touch is really brief, barely a brush, but he shivers and steps back.

“What are you doing?”

“Have you ever consider jealousy as a part of the reasons why?”

“Jealousy ? But about what ? That’s ridiculous, Dan is the only man I’ve ever really had in my life and-”

He stops in his sentence, feeling embarrassed by his own confession. He definitely didn’t want it to come out like that. 

“Well the … you wore pretty high collars during a moment. As if you wanted to hide something.”

And he didn’t get involved in any real contact with his boyfriend between the gp’. Kisses, hugs, but nothing more … intimate. So Daniel may as well has thought he … 

“What ? No … I would’ve never …”

Cheated on him. 

He thought that what he was hiding was a proof of it. Or something like that. But since the aussie never talked about it, it means he was only half-doubting of him and it’s … 

He really feels like he could have avoided the whole situation. If only he had been a little more honest. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about it but if, sometimes, Jos scares him, he still thinks he’s a good person somehow. He’s the one that made him grow up, that forged him … in fact he’s very conflicted each time it’s about his father. He heard all that’s been said, he had his own internal conflicts and thoughts but … 

He’s a mess each time the subject is brought. A mess and a mess. And maybe, something, some part of him have been wasted like this. By his very dear dad.

And for once, he doesn’t run away and he doesn’t lie.

“I wasn’t hiding anything about a potential lover, someone with who I would have cheated on Dan, gosh I would never have done that, I already think I’m so lucky to have him by my side, I love him so much.”

He smiles poorly at his friends.

“I hid the marks my father did to me.”

* * *

**Tu seras viril mon Kid,**

**Tu compteras tes billets d'abondance,**

**Qui fleurissent sous tes pieds que tu ne croiseras jamais,**

**Tu cracheras sans manière dans tous sens, Défileras fier et dopé de chairs et de nerfs protéinés**

a/n : _a man shouldn’t cross his legs since it’s a position of woman. There’s also two things that can be associated with extreme masculinity; dirty manners and once again muscles._

* * *

Max almost wants to throw up when he sees the shocked look on the other drivers’ faces when he show them pictures of his neck. His secret. The one he strangely kept a bit too well. Because nobody saw what was under his collar and then it was gone.

He knows that being honest, admitting that there may be a problem is part of the process. He … is frankly lost. 

“Max, you …” but Pierre doesn’t end his sentence and instead comes to hug him. 

Alex doesn’t wait too long before adding to the embrace. He freezes at the beginning but lets himself go after few seconds. It’s okay. He remembers. It’s okay. They don’t judge him, they don’t criticize him, they don’t mock him, they just want him to be fine. 

They want him to be fine.

He feels tears burning his eyes. He bites his lips. Ridiculous. Still too emotional. He got too emotional on that part. 

But then there were all this shit about being opponents and that no one cared about him, that they all wanted him gone, to fall, to fail, and that he shouldn't care about anyone either, that he wasn’t here to make friends, that he was at war and that’s a thing he would win alone.

“You know you should talk about it with Daniel. He definitely would understand. It should solve the whole problem.”

And just like that, Alex smiles once again at him, and he suddenly feels lighter. A part of his burden gone and it was so complicated to keep this all by himself. Alone, again. When all he wanted was Daniel’s protection but he knows … he knows he can’t always count on him. He has to do things by himself, he can’t weigh on him constantly like this but-

Look at what happens when he tries to do things on his own. 

He is in a hurry to fix everything. He doesn’t like to fight with Daniel. It’s part of their life, their daily life sure, but fights on that kind of subject, heavier fights … that’s something he wants to avoid, that he keeps away as much as possible. At all costs.

“I … I’ll try.”

Pierre shakes his head, grabbing Max’s phone before handing it to him.

“I’ve got even a better one. Do it. Now.”

The two other drivers exchange once again a look he can’t decipher but it seems that they arrive at the same conclusion since they both get up, ready to leave. He’s speechless but he definitely needs to tell them something. He needs that.

“Thank you guys. Thanks for coming, thanks for caring about me. Thanks.”

“A pleasure. See ya.” Alex is the first to cross the door.

A sudden flash of his memory. Something he forgot to ask.

“Wait, Pierre ?”

The older man turns to look at him, intrigued.

“Can you, somehow, give me the translation of Kid ?”

Pierre’s smile becomes even brighter after that while he nods and finally walks away. Left alone, Max sits a moment and thinks. Lets his thoughts wander in fact. He doesn’t have much to say but-

He sends directly the pictures of his bruises to Daniel. Without any words, any salutations, any comments. Just the pictures.

And the answer doesn’t take too long before coming.

**DAN :**

_ The fuck, Max?  _

He closes his eyes, crossing his fingers. He doesn’t know what to expect. He has a lot in his mind and a lot to hope for. A lot to protect. His relationship. 

His phone vibrates in his hand and he almost jumps when it happens. Hurry to answer. To answer to Daniel. Of course.

“ _Coming to your apartment in 5._ ”

That’s all before the end of the call and he couldn’t even let out a word. He doesn’t know if he should be relieved or scared.

Maybe both ?

* * *

**Tu seras viril mon Kid,**

**Tu brilleras par ta force physique, ton allure dominante, ta posture de Caïd,**

**Et ton Sexe triomphant pour mépriser les faibles,**

**Tu jouiras de ta rude étincelle**

a/n : _a man who should be the strongest and who should dominate and despise the weakest. He should revel of what he has, of the fact of being on top of the others._

* * *

Max waits near from his apartment entrance. Nervous. When the doorbell rings, he hesitates one more second, uncertain, before opening. Daniel looks beautiful in the daylight, as always, but his curls are messy and he seems preoccupied. He almost appears to have been interrupted in the middle of something.

He lowers his gaze a bit, almost shy. Which is quite new to him, he never has been shy around the aussie, he learnt to never be shy around him.

“...hi ?”

He doesn’t get any answers but, instead, two arms are wrapped around him and, suddenly, he feels more at home than he ever been those latest days.

“Gosh Max, you’re an idiot. You should’ve just told me. I would have been here for you, always. I love you and I want to help you but I can’t if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. If you tell me nothing …”

“I’m sorry” he whispers, crushed in the embrace, suddenly alive, so alive all he wants to do is cry again “I’m sorry I thought I could handle it, I thought it was for the best. The whole … thing with my dad. I never wanted to hurt you …”

The older man’s hand rubs gently his back. They must do quite a scene right now, both standing in the entrance, in each other arms, him nearly crying from all those sudden emotions that are invading his chest, but he can’t care less.

“You didn’t hurt me, Maxy. My thoughts hurt me. I shouldn’t have believed that you cheated on me, I had no proof. You didn’t deserve this, love.”

“No, you’re right, I’m an idiot, I-”

“Should we spend the whole evening arguing on who’s the most at fault or can we actually enter your apartment ?” 

It’s ridiculous, just one sentence. A common one. But it makes him crack. He feels tears rolling down his cheeks and if he actually frees himself from the hug and drags Daniel along, he goes back in his arms as soon as they’ve reached the sofa.

“Ooof- hey, calm down, Maxy, I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here, by your side, I’m not leaving. I won’t leave you anymore, my lion.”

He shakes his head.

“You shouldn't make promises you’ll not be able to keep.” he mumbles, face hidden in Daniel’s neck.

His boyfriend frowns, he doesn’t see it but he can somehow feel it, and he’s being pushed back, just a little, so he can pull his hands on his shoulders.

“We may have fights and so on, but you know what ?”

He’s drowning in those beautiful brown eyes in front of him. The aussie barely raises his voice while saying this and he’s however hanging onto his every word.

“The place beside you is already reserved. No matter if you want me or not, I’ll stay there for your very next years. Until you have enough of me. That’s where I want to be for the rest of my life, by your side, Maxy. Face the consequences of your actions !”

Max rolls his eyes, exasperated, but he cannot suppress the little smile he has on his lips. As always. The other driver excels in calming him down. 

“Oh my. I’m already regretting my choice.”

Daniel looks shocked, outraged, but he knows it’s nothing more than an act so he simply let go and kisses his partner. Cheesy declarations. Which make his heart beat faster in his chest. 

“What are you gonna do, Max ? About your father, I mean.”

The elephant in the room. He sighs. Daniel once again wraps an arm around him, around his waist. 

“I … i don’t know.”

This doesn’t seem right to his ears. 

“Yet. I don’t know yet.”

The grip tightens and he melts in the embrace. His boyfriend kisses his cheek, erasing the last stain of tears from his face and then puts his lips on his forehead. His sunshine. 

“It has to be your choice, but he can’t hurt you any longer, this is not right, Max, and you know it.”

He can’t disagree with this. And it makes him kind of sad, because that man, his father, hurted him from the most horrible way and, still, he can’t bring himself to hate him … that much. He just can’t.

This man is his father.

He went through a lot of things that maybe should never have crossed his path, and he even admitted that no one ever been that hard with him than his father. It’s still what made him grow up. Sadly, it still is.

He never saw the end of those days. Rainy days. Cloudy days. Without any ray of sunshine near to be seen. Until he met Daniel. 

And if he knows something about his whole situation, it is that listening to him was often the right thing to do.

He would have certainly panicked if he was alone to take this decision, but his aussie is with him and, that’s right, he doesn't seem any close to leave him. He will not leave him. He’ll stay here. Right here and that’s all he needs to know for now.

“I’ll be with you, every step of the way, if you ever need, you still have time to choose what you want to do exactly.”

He never considered himself endangered, which is quite funny since his life already has been threatened by his dad. It’s sad, he thinks. It’s sad how you’re ready to forget and forgive everything on the pretext that it’s made out of love.

* * *

**Virilité abusive, virilité abusive,**

**Virilité abusive, virilité abusive,**

a/n : _masculinity excessive, toxic. what resumes the most the feeling the singer has about his father’s speech._

* * *

Max is careful. Scrolls down the text Pierre sent him. Each paragraph with an exact translation of it. He lets him free from any analysis, he lets him make his own opinion of the lyrics.

But he must admit it’s quite showy, the reason why he could somehow recognize himself in this song … is truly disturbing now he understands its meaning.

It’s like somehow he knew that his situation wasn’t right, that what was happening was bad and on an other hand he didn’t. Unconsciously. His mind and his heart. Reason and feelings. 

The scene is quite similar to the day Pierre recommended him the song when he sat down by his side, on a sunny afternoon, on the grass, close from the paddock.

They don't talk much at first, even though he has a lot to say. Even though he’s still holding his phone opened right on the music app.

“The song” he manages to tell him “why did you talk about it ? Why, to me ? How?”

A lot of questions that invaded his mind lately. People knows about his story with his dad and so on, he hears whispers and sees silent questions in their eyes on his way, but why ? Why when they never used to talk too deeply about themselves.

“Because I think you … I don’t know how to define this. You didn’t seem fine. Each time your father is around you probably not see it but you’re anxious, scared, and for most of people you seem the same as usual, maybe a bit colder, but they don’t see it. That’s not the case.”

He freezes when he hears that. He never thought about it, so it’s probably not a conscious behavior but still … maybe … maybe he doesn’t feel that safe since Daniel isn’t his teammate anymore. 

He hates to admit it. He hates to look like some damsel in distress. But he also knows it’s not the point.

“Alex saw it too. That’s why we came to your apartment when we heard about your fight with Daniel.”

Pierre still didn’t really answer his question and he’s about to remind him but the french hasn’t yet finished to talk.

“I talked to you about this song because …” the older man swallows, looking away “I wanted to help … I guess.”

“The song became at some point a trigger. Probably not the way you think it’d be but still … I should probably thank you.”

“You don’t have to. I didn’t do anything special.”

Max closes his eyes, breathing softly. He still has much to do. He always misses of time. Greater purpose this time. But this need to be made. He’s on his way.

“...no. Thanks for caring again. You probably gonna think it’s absurd but I never really felt that surrounded. People did care about me but they never really … searched below the surface.”

“You should thanks Alex I think. He was worrying a lot about you those latest days. Wondering if everything was fine and so on …”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He hesitates a bit but ends up by leaning over and takes Pierre in his arms. Friends. Well, that’s new. Friends. He likes it, by the way. He feels like a child for being excited by that kind of things but … hey, friends.

“Call us or pass by if you need anything.” whispers the french kindly “Seriously, Maxy, we’ll be right here okay?”

Only Daniel can call him that but he makes an exception for once and smiles. How explain ? It’s been years since he felt that good. He’s near from the greatest conversation (and surely fight) he ever had and the one he fears the most, but he never felt that good.

“I meant it for Alex you know. Talk to him before his worries kill him.” adds Pierre while standing up slowly, stretching out.

“I’ll do it.”

The other driver grins.

“Then I’ll be on my way. And … don’t be scared of what’s ahead of you, Max. It’s gonna be okay, if there is anyone that can do this it’s you.”

He doesn’t really know what Pierre means. He knows it’s encouragements. In which way? He can’t fail for sure but if he has to go meet his destiny then he’ll- Oh.

He’s Max Verstappen.

Simply that. 

He made his own place in formula one, he forged his seat here and if a lot of things have been reproached to him he always dodged the critics and rushed headlong in the race. That’s who he is, that’s what he likes. There’s nowhere else he would want to be.

Time to show his father his champion’s material.

Time to stop avoiding the main subject. He cannot hide, he cannot run away, he cannot accept it. He cannot live like this his entire life.

His heart beats faster in his chest.

Daniel’s never really far from him.

And if he takes his hand on a sudden impulse, on a second where he doesn’t have any moment to fear what will happen next, as he goes through the door, he doesn’t regret it.

* * *

**Mais moi, mais moi, je joue avec les filles**

**Mais moi, mais moi, je ne prône pas mon chibre**

**Mais moi, mais moi, j’accélèrerai tes rides**

**Pour que tes propos cessent et disparaissent**

a/n : _the answer to the father. He plays with girls, which means the idea of virility isn’t what is defined before. He doesn’t need to hang out with boys, to show muscles, for being a man. He can do what he wants and he still will be. He wants his father to grow old faster so he could change his point of view and change the archaic idea he has of masculinity. He wants those words, which surely followed him too long in his life, to disappear._

* * *

They start to initiate removal orders. That was for the best. He followed the advices that were given to him. He has the proofs required and witnesses to support his testimony. He already has won.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel conflicted.

In the last part, his dad throws obscenities at him. Without any restraint. Daniel’s hand is on his the whole time. It’s the only thing that keeps him calm and that maintains him here. He doesn’t run away.

Jos is forbidden from ever entering Red Bull's garage, from ever approaching him. Sanctions. He misses a bit this part, lost in thoughts, in his feelings. He doesn’t really care after all. He doesn’t really care.

It’s the last time his father ever hurt him like this. 

Medias then follow him, looking for answer, but he has nothing to give them. Nothing at all. No declarations, no allegation, nothing. Not a word. And if they succeed in collecting his testimony by a way he doesn’t know, understand, it’s none of his business.

He still is who he is. He still is Max Verstappen and doesn’t need any pity. And when Daniel first mentions a psychologist he gets mad. Because he doesn’t have any problems.

Or he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. 

But it’s for his own good and he’s back up, supported by his boyfriend, his friends. He found a lot lately. A lot of everything. Things that made his life easier, better.

He knows what love is and he knows it’s not out of reach. He knows it’s sometimes closer than we may think and he proves it many time. Different forms of love. Friendship as a part of it. 

And what he sees in the eyes of those that count so much to him when passes through the paddock, that’s pride.

Recovery. Healing. 

That’s a road that wears much names, each person gave it the one they want to. Sometimes it’s better to not put a title on it. To leave it as it is. Naked and ready to be stepped on.

He smiles. Really. Happiness that comes and goes by as time passes. Freedom he doesn’t quite acknowledge. Tension, nervosity he can’t totally erase from his own body. 

It’s okay. Everything is okay.

Now, he corrects himself. Everything is okay now.

He’s becoming another person while staying himself and it's odd to say. He dealt with a part of his life that never was really over. His childhood somehow wasted. The things he missed … for his career.

“That was the last step” whispers Daniel, while passing a hand on his curls.

“Last step for what ? Before what ?”

His boyfriend grins enigmatically and he feels strangely moved. In fact, loved. But it’s all a matter of perspectives as always. His aussie proved him long ago that he was deeply in love with him, from the depths of his heart, and, luckily for him (even though he finds it complicated to resist to his charm), he was in love with him too.

But few seconds later, as he jumps in his arms to kiss him purely out of delight, he swears he never tasted that much freedom than from Daniel’s lips.

* * *

**Mais moi, mais moi, je joue avec les filles**

**Mais moi, mais moi, je ne prône pas mon chibre**

**Mais moi, mais moi, j’accélèrerai tes rides**

**Pour que tes propos cessent et disparaissent**

* * *

“What are you doing here, all alone ?” asks Daniel when he founds him in a corner, behind the paddock.

Max smiles slightly when he sees his boyfriend and taps the empty space right beside him to encourage him to seat by his side. Difficult day, but … yeah, he feels free, from a way or another.

Jos couldn’t chose another to day to make medias speak of him. Bullshit and so on. Alex basically acted as his bodyguard he whole day but it was exhausting. For both. He spent some time with Pierre, his only real moment of relaxation in the whole day. They talked about music.

The race happened, his home race, and he didn’t meet Jos the whole weekend. A good thing. 

And, yeah, coming out coming back in their conversation, questions burning the lips of the journalists as he forgot, and his win.

Not much.

He still thinks a lot..

It’s not like he knows what he’s supposed to feel, he guesses he will start to understand after some time more. He needs some again, he only starts to understand. And what he needs is taking a step back to see properly his own situation. He has been in it for so long he probably lost any external view.

He still has to figure out what exactly his father did to him, how it affected him in his daily life and how he can fix it. How they can fix it. Daniel’s never really far from him. Right by his side, just like he promised.

He knows it was bad, he knows it. He just needs time to change his perspective. To learn not to be scared anymore of living as he wants to, of having bad races, because it always can happen. Of holding his boyfriend’s hand.

He sets his own objectives. Slowly, step by step. He knows he’s gaining ground, little by little, that’s more than enough. 

Daniel feels like home, is his home and the quote : “home is where the heart is” never made more sense than now. Feeling invincible, able to touch the sky, just because he’s by his side. Feeling safe, feeling fine, feeling alive. Happy, for once. He knows what love feels like but this kind of love ?

Man, it’s his favorite for sure.

Cheesy. He’s so cheesy, crap. He can blame his aussie for this. Without any doubts nor regrets. Perfect as it is. They carry on … 

“What are you listening to ?”

Max simply smiles and hands over his headphones to Daniel. He watches the older man’s face crumple when he surely recognizes the language. He added it in his playlist.

The other driver finally gives him back his earphones while getting closer of him, a little bit closer, just enough for their shoulders to touch. They stare at the sky few moments.

“What’s this song about?”

He smirks.

“Maybe you’ll have to listen to it a couple of time more to understand fully.”

**Author's Note:**

> it's one of the biggest work that stayed in my drafts for too long ... in fact it wasn't that long until i finally got inspired enough to continue it. This song really reminded me Max for some reasons, i couldn't stop myself from writing an os about him, about this ... whole thing. I hope it was coherent enough, that i didn't go too far for you to follow me and that kind of stuff ... still nervous about posting in english hehe !  
> Thanks for reading, as always, and you can find me on tumblr (laeana), almost always available to tchat if you want to :)


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